


Heart With Wings

by ClockWords



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Blowjobs, Bruising, Church loves this idiot so much, Implied morning sex, Light Angst, M/M, Ngl this is a little sad at the start but gets happier, angry smut y’all, but also lots of soft feelings, i might touch up on that in a future fic, implied tuckington, poor wash omg, some smooches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:53:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28110459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockWords/pseuds/ClockWords
Summary: A mission got too damn close for Church’s comfort, breaking down the walls he and Tucker had crafted so carefully for so long.
Relationships: Leonard L. Church/Lavernius Tucker
Comments: 11
Kudos: 18





	Heart With Wings

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the song Heart With Wings by Trocadero (for ally titled Ghosts That Linger, the name of the same album).

“God, I hate you so  _ fucking much!” _

Oh- but did he?

Church is inches from Tucker’s face, his synthetic and mechanical features flaring a deadly snarl.

“You were  _ this fucking close  _ to getting shot, do you get that? Do you  _ fucking get that?! _ ”

God, Church knew Tucker would’ve been okay, he really did. He did the calculations  _ twice,  _ but that sliver of human he has left decided to project mental images of Tucker’s blood on his hands. 

Tucker’s chest puffs out, out of pride, just a little, as the two stood in their shared quarters. It was fucking  _ late,  _ most already asleep. The two had changed intoregular clothes in silence, the tension waiting to fucking burst like a balloon. 

He forms a snarl of his own, canines glaring. 

“Excuse me? If I hadn’t made a move you would’ve been  _ dead!” _

“News flash, asshole!  _ I’m a fucking robot!” _

Tucker huffs and rolls his eyes. His arms lift instinctually to brace for Church’s sudden invasion. A sharp face is somehow  _ closer _ -

“I don’t care what you are! A bullet to the head is still a bullet to head, dickface!”

“Tucker, I’m a  _ super computer.  _ I did the calculations, it would’ve hit my chest. I would’ve been  _ fine.” _

Tucker takes a step back.

“Oh my god, would you just get over yourself? Am I just not allowed to do something nice?”

_ Nice? Does he equate death to paying for my lunch or something?  _

“You’re so fucking  _ stupid!  _ You put yourself at risk and you put the mission at risk-“

Tucker visibly bristles, spine stiffening as his fists curl. “I got the job done, didn’t I?”

“ _ No,  _ Wash did! He saved our asses, like he always does!” Church is back in his face, closing the distance once more.

“Keep him the  _ fuck  _ out of this, Church-“

Church  _ sneers.  _

“Why? Don’t like your boyfriend always showing you up? Don’t like the reminder that  _ he’s  _ the one who’s actually in charge?” 

And,  _ oh  _ how that was too far-

Washington was a sore subject for Tucker. Always has been. While their relationship was definitely complicated, it wasn’t what Tucker had with Church. It never had been. Similar, yes, but not the same.

Church didn’t need to know that. 

Church takes a hit to the face;  _ hard.  _ He stumbles back, shocked it even came at all. And- there it was, a reminder that Church isn’t human, not really. His face almost felt like the real deal, but something deep underneath the fake flesh was so obviously mechanical. He was complicated like that; while much of him was actually real, the majority was machine. Like Simmons, only… more complete. 

Church blinks away his surprise, only for the green in his eyes to flare a deadly fire in them. He’s shoving Tucker’s chest, translating his anger into physical contact that he  _ so desperately craves _ . 

“You’re a fucking  _ dick!”  _ He’s shoving again, back and back until Tucker hits a wall. 

_ Like trapping your prey- _

“I told you not to fucking bring him into this- as if I’ve ever had a fucking issue with punching you.” A deep, warm flush starts to spread across Tucker’s dark complexion. It’s so very  _ there  _ and Tucker’s paranoid the flush is obvious to the man practically threatening his life  _ right here and now- _

__ In seconds, Church’s hands are on either side of Tucker’s flushed, angered face, barring him in and preventing escape. Sharp teeth flash in the dim light, baring like an angered,  _ hungry  _ wolf.

_ Or maybe a cat- _

“It’s his fucking fault, anyway; you wouldn’t have risked your  _ stupid  _ life if he hadn’t slapped you onto the mission rollcall sheet. Like I’m  _ not  _ gonna be angry at that fucking prick-“ 

“Why are you so fucking  _ jealous-“  _ Tucker’s voice is soft, but still so obviously angry. 

Oh.  _ Oh.  _ Was that it? Jealousy would make the most sense. Church was definitely familiar with that emotion. Tex introduced it to him, after all. She gave him a single shred of attention, and it was all he really wanted. Attention and some goddamn love. 

But those were  _ absolutely  _ the wrong words to string together, and Tucker knew it the second they flew out of his mouth. Everyone already knew Church hated being called out. It formed a deep, dark plume of rage in the abyss of his chest every single time. 

And wasn’t it the truth? When Church came back to see Washington wearing  _ his  _ armor, the jealousy was instant and aggressive. It didn’t help that the man brought trouble everywhere he went, and he practically kick-started the Reds and Blues giving a shit about  _ anything.  _ Before Washington, life was so fucking  _ easy.  _ Tucker wasn’t thrown into life-threatening situations that Church himself has to calculate quickly enough to keep his friend alive. Not just Tucker, but Caboose and Carolina and  _ shockingly,  _ the Reds, too. Church didn’t have to worry about a goddamn thing until he was told he’s a computer. 

And then Church left again, with Carolina. 

He came back thinking everyone would be ecstatic to see him, which was obviously selfish of him considering he practically abandoned the crew without even a simple goodbye. Of course, Caboose was more than elated. Overjoyed, relieved and downright  _ happy.  _ But Church knew this already. He was more concerned about the  _ other  _ blue on his team. 

When Tucker saw that tiny fucking hologram boast over his sudden arrival, Tucker wanted nothing more than to send his fist flying into his stupid fucking  _ holographic  _ face. 

And now? Now he  _ can  _ deck that man in the face. When Church got his new body, Tucker’s need to punch him in the mouth only flourished. In the months Church had been gone, Tucker was busy being a fucking leader he never wanted to be. Busy consoling Caboose. Busy dealing with deaths on his hands of cadets that were just  _ too fucking young.  _ Busy trying to improve himself as a person because  _ by god, people look up to him now.  _

But he was also busy  _ worrying.  _ He never took rejection well. Always came back. Always tried again and again and  _ again.  _ Tucker grew tired of trying. He felt fucking empty, abandoned and forgotten. Church was everything to Tucker; to wake up and know that the asshole was out there somewhere, without him, sent his rage through the roof. 

_ He abandoned the fucking family.  _

__ But Washington. Washington was there. 

And it took a while, but they eventually formed a strange bond. A push and pull; much like Tucker’s and Church’s relationship. In time, Tucker evolved to crave that relationship. Washington knew  _ exactly  _ how to push Tucker harder, encourage him to do his fucking best and Tucker  _ hated it.  _ But their bond was inevitable. They crashed like fucking meteors, unable to pull from eachother’s gravitational grip. While Tucker consolidated and protected Caboose, the Reds and his cadets, Washington protected  _ him. _

Tucker was still healing when it happened. 

“You’re just fucking mad because he  _ fucked me first.” _

It’s like this; there’s only one way to move on from any fight with Church. Make him angrier, or attempt to calm him down. The latter is reserved for more…  _ depressing  _ situations. The former? Exactly what’s called for. Tucker knew he wasn’t going to get what he wanted unless he pushed just  _ that much more- _

But the choice of words was practically a death sentence; once again, Church does  _ not  _ like being called out on. 

Pale hands grip Tucker’s waist like a vice, aggressively rotating him until Tucker’s face-first against the wall. 

_ Okay, fuck- that’s gonna leave bruises- _

Lips press against Tucker’s ear, harsh and with meaning. 

“He fucked you first, but I’ll fuck you  _ better.” _

The promise seeped deep into Tucker’s bones, forcing a whine to spill from his already begging mouth. Honestly, this should’ve been expected. Church  _ hated  _ being outdone, hated being the shadow of someone’s light. He  _ is  _ the light; he’s the star of the show, after all. While the two weren’t actually a thing, it was still an unspoken rule; Tucker belonged to Church, and that’s that. They weren’t obvious like Simmons and Grif; it wasn’t something that everyone just  _ understood.  _ They were their own thing. Their relationship was unique, aggressive, supportive, loud and loving all at the same time. 

They were a fucking train wreck, both refusing to admit the obvious. 

“I thought you were gonna fucking die today, jackass- the last thing I wanna be reminded of is the fact that someone  _ else  _ fucked what’s  _ mine.”  _ He yanks Tucker’s waist closer to him, forcing his upper half to slip further down the wall. Teeth nip and mark Tucker’s neck, traveling up until they nipped an ear. Sharp hips roll against Tucker’s waist, Church’s interest obvious and  _ so fucking reciprocated- _

__ Tucker was never one for clingy partners, but the idea of being Church’s and Church’s alone possessed him in a deep, emotional way. 

__ “Fucking prove that I’m yours. You never gave a shit about what I did with other people before, why the fuck would you care now after you abandoned us-“

“That was  _ months  _ ago, you  _ fucking prick.”  _ Church proves his frustration by gripping Tucker’s hips tighter, fingers sinking deep against muscle and bone. “Get the fuck over yourself, you know damn well we didn’t-“

“But you fucking  _ did!”  _ Tucker turns his head, looking at Church from his shoulder. A warm wetness prickles at the corners of his eyes, but he refuses to let them get any further than that. “You left us; Caboose, Grif, Washington-“

The grip on his hips tighten in warning. 

“You left  _ me- _ “ 

They didn’t really talk about it. Not much, at least. Didn’t talk about how they felt or what they did when they were separated. Why would they? That wasn’t their thing, never had been. But Tucker’s near-death experience was enough to finally break those walls.

“God, fuck  _ you.  _ I’m not leaving your stupid ass, Tucker-“ he proves his point by roughly biting Tucker’s ear once more, sending a flash of heat across the smaller man’s body. 

“Promise?” Tucker’s question comes out as a fucking  _ whine,  _ damn him. 

How could Church even say no to that? 

Something guttural and primal swelled within Church’s gut; it was hot, protective and  _ determined.  _ A slender hand slides up Tucker’s back, snaking over a dark shoulder before fingers splayed across a thudding neck. Church curls his fingers, giving a long, gentle squeeze before tipping his best friend’s head back until Tucker’s body was flush to Church’s chest. He’s got the back of the brunette’s head on his shoulder, feeling his pulse through his warm neck. Dark brown eyes are looking at Church like they’ll never see him again, and it’s  _ killing  _ him. 

“I promise.” 

Church’s hand moves from Tucker’s neck up to soft hair, right where it transitions from undercut to curls. He grips tightly, dragging a moan out of the victim’s lips. Church tips his head back by the grip he holds, letting his other hand slink down the hem of Tucker’s sweats. 

Tucker’s about to beg for it; about to fucking cry for those pale lips. But Church beats him to it. He seels them over Tucker’s by abusing his height advantage and his grip in Tucker’s hair. He’s already slipping his tongue past dark lips, not asking permission but rather  _ demanding  _ it. 

And Tucker was a weak, weak man. 

Church gives another desperate roll of his hips, groin lined up perfectly with Tucker’s ass. His instincts scream to shove Tucker’s face back against the wall, but his heart had craved that pretty little mouth too goddamn long. Tucker’s lips were full and pretty and  _ addicting.  _

Tucker’s hand flies to meet Church’s, the one down his sweats. A dark hand guides a pale one, further and further as Tucker wriggles against Church’s pelvis for needed friction. 

“Absolutely  _ not.  _ You think you deserve any touch after what you pulled with Wash?” Church stopped his movements, dangerously close to a begging cock. And god, it just wasn’t  _ fair.  _ Tucker never cheated on him, they weren’t even an item- 

“What? Dude,  _ please-“  _

__ “I said I was gonna  _ fuck  _ you, not give you what you want, jackass.” He sucks another mark into Tucker’s skin, right below the ear and making the man below him moan. 

“You know, I always thought you’d be the first to snap- I thought you might fuckin’ jump me when I got this body-“

“ _ Fuck,  _ I was so goddamn tempted, but my need to punch your stupid face kinda over powered that, you asshole. You’ve been walking around with an actual fucking  _ body.  _ A fucking  _ face-  _ god, you’re so pretty, Church-“

Church suddenly squeezes in warning, hand gripping a warm cock with purpose and forcing a whine from Tucker’s throat.

“Just- shut up-“

“Didn’t realize you were sensitive to praise, should’ve known with how full of yourself you are-“

“Shut  _ up, Tucker- _ “ He punctuates his point by sinking sharp canines in the meat of Tucker’s shoulder, threatening to break the skin. 

And  _ hell,  _ Tucker fucking  _ keened.  _

“Okay,  _ that’s  _ a turn on-“

Church rolls his hips again, stroking Tucker in time with his harsh movements. “I will fucking leave you here, I swear to  _ god-“  _ He licks the wound at Tucker’s shoulder before wrapping his lips in the same spot, sucking an even darker mark. His nimble hands slip to yank the hem of Tucker’s sweats to the floor, fucking  _ desperate  _ at this point. 

Church let’s his shorts and briefs fall to the floor, one hand gliding up Tucker’s body to tap lightly at his bottom lip. Tucker complies with zero resistance, granting Church access to a warm, velvety heat. 

“I know fucking Donut took the last of your lube, I told him where it was-“

“You  _ dick-“  _ he says around fingers in his mouth, words slurred and frustrated.

“-so we’re gonna have to go a little old-school here, babe.” Church couldn’t stop the grin from overpowering his face even if he wanted to. He thrusts his fingers into the tight heat, toying with Tucker’s tongue and exploring like he‘s fuckin’  _ starved  _ for it. 

The drool collects quickly, dripping down Tucker’s curved chin and slipping over the line of Church’s forearm. Soft whines fill the dark room, heat and pleasure and  _ perfection  _ crashing together into what feels like a long-time coming. 

Tucker’s groaning around the fingers in his mouth, pleading silently as he works his tongue. He keens when Church pulls his hand back, but nothing could really prepare Tucker for the overwhelming rush that flooded his entire body the moment Church slipped into that tight heat.

It felt-  _ odd.  _ Almost real, but Tucker has real hands to compare it to. There’s always something to remind Tucker of just how artificial Church really is. But regardless of whether or not they’re real, his fingers still felt fucking  _ perfect.  _ Not exactly what Tucker was anticipating; quite the opposite, actually. He expected to be railing Church- practically dreamed of it. But hey, he’ll take what he can get. 

He just felt like shit for completely forgetting about Church in the one night Wash fucked him. 

“Hold still, Jesus, you keep  _ squirming-“ _

“How the  _ fuck  _ do you expect me to hold still when you have  _ fingers up my ass-“ _

Church should’ve seen the crude words coming a mile away; Tucker was never known for being subtle. Still, it didn’t fail to throw him off. 

“Tucker, I swear to god-“

“Dude, I’m stretched, I’m  _ fine,  _ just fuck me already-“

Despite how riled up Church became, he refused to obey Tucker’s begging whines. He nuzzles at Tucker’s neck, a stark contrast to his previous abuse to Tucker’s neck with pointed canines. Church lets one hand slip to Tucker’s waist, tracing mindless circles into dark skin. 

“Hush for a second. As much as I’d love to fuck your brains out, I still wanna do this  _ right.”  _ The voice is shockingly soft against Tucker’s ears, throwing him for a loop entirely and leaving Tucker baffled by the sudden touches when his hips already have actual  _ bruises.  _

A deep inhale, then a slow exhale. 

“Lemme suck you off, I don’t have any lube because of you, and you  _ so  _ don’t deserve it, but I-“ he bites his lower lip, turning his head over his shoulder to get a look at his boyfriend’s(?) expression. “But I can be good, I promise. Lemme do it-“

Church sags against him, softly whining against Tucker’s warm ear as his words dig deep into Church’s synthetic body, relentless and fucking unforgiving. Images of Tucker’s mouth stretch around him, on his knees, are flitting in and out of Church’s memory data. His mind short circuits, just for a moment, as it processes the fake images and  _ fuck  _ if he wants it-

“Okay,  _ okay,  _ fuck- get on your knees, Tucker,” he kisses against Tucker’s flushed cheek before nipping his ear. 

Like a lost dog, Tucker obeys. He’s on his knees, hands already running over to massage at Church’s thighs. 

Touch was… different, for Church. He didn’t exactly have nerves and muscle quite like Tucker. How he processed touch was vastly different, but he still  _ felt  _ the pleasure. Instead of hot heat filling his core, he feels wires and circuits crossing and sparking in a way he really can’t get enough of. And Tucker knows  _ exactly  _ how to do it. 

“God  _ damn,  _ was this thing really necessary?” Tucker’s grinning that stupid grin of his, lips coming up to kiss the tip with little shame. 

“It wasn’t my idea,  _ Lavernius.”  _ He meant to sound crude, aggressive, even. But his targeted emotion isn’t what hit the mark. 

__ Tucker’s cocky demeanor visibly crumbles from his face, leaving behind something softer, more pleading and vulnerable.

_ God I fucking  _ hate  _ being open to people- _

His head leans forward, nuzzling where leg meets hip. 

“Say it again-  _ please _ .” Tucker’s lips move to kiss at the base, warm tongue slowly gliding up the shaft before it dips deep into the slit. Church involuntarily jolts, groaning softly as pale hands come down to card through thick, black hair. 

“Fuck- Lav- where did you learn to-“ Church chokes off, the tip of his cock suddenly wrapped in a tight, velvet heat. Tucker’s buried to the hilt, nose touching synthetic skin. The fingers in his hair bury deeper, tugging in a way that bordered pain. 

But Church’s question was best unanswered. Deep down, he knew damn well where Tucker learned how to do this so well; the emptiness that confirmed information would leave wasn’t worth it. 

Church collects himself, taking steady breaths before using one hand to grip the front of Tucker’s bangs. Tucker looks up, soft moans vibrating over his mouthful. He swallows; his way of giving permission. Church nods once before slowly thrusting into the tight heat. Tucker takes him in stride, relaxing the rest of his muscles and allowing the man above him free reign. 

He can feel the build up- Church was hanging on by a mere thread. 

_ It’s been too fucking long- _

He pulls Tucker off, earning a disappointed whine in retaliation. Church only chuckled. 

“I can’t finish in your mouth, idiot, or I’m not gonna be able to fuck you-“

“Changed my mind. I know you stretched me already, but I want this back down my throat,  _ yesterday.” _

And, really, how can Church deny him anything? 

He only nods, unable to trust his mouth to form any proper words without choking. Church slips back down the welcoming warmth, eyes fluttering shut as his circuits whir in his chest. Tucker’s throat is open perfectly for him, begging to swallow anything he’s given like a starving man. 

For Tucker, it was almost like deepthroating a high quality dildo- the skin was  _ almost  _ real enough to believe. It throbbed much like an actual cock, but something about it made it just artificial enough to be distinguishable from a real cock. But Tucker could care less; this was real enough for him. It was everything he’s wanted, ever since they were shot into the future back in Sidewinder and spun into a stupid journey that lead up to  _ this.  _

That seemed so long ago, now. 

The abuse to Tucker’s throat only escalated, with Church’s hand tugging at dark hair to gain purchase as he thrusts. Tucker’s a fucking  _ mess  _ below, opting to close his eyes and surrender control. Church’s breathing picks up, and if Tucker listened closely enough he could hear soft whirs deep within his best friend. 

“Fuck, I’m close-“ 

Tucker only hummed in encouragement, swallowing each time Church hit the back of his throat. In seconds, Church has both hands in a head of hair as he spills down Tucker’s throat. Hot, almost burning heat coats Tucker’s throat like it was  _ made  _ for it. 

He won’t let up; a velvet tongue continues to prod and kiss against the tip. Church’s wires are sparking internally, overstimulated and sensitive. 

“Dude- fuck, I can’t-  _ sensitive,  _ Tucker-“

He hums again, pulling off with a soft, slick sound before leaning up to kiss Church’s flat stomach. 

“C’mon, babe, can’t take it?”

“If I remember correctly, you haven’t come yet. I’ll fucking leave you like that.” 

Tucker’s complexion darkens at the words, but he keeps his grin plastered to his face. “Sorry, baby, I pretty much painted our floor white.”

Church raises an eyebrow before looking down. He sees the soft white in Tucker’s hand and across the floor. He sighs with easy frustration, carding his hand through Tucker’s curls. But that frustration is short-lived after he watched Tucker lick his hand clean. 

“You’re gonna clean that up.” 

“ _ Or,  _ you and me can fuckin’ sleep.”

Church shakes his head before yanking Tucker up to his own face. He leans forward, seeling his lips over Tucker’s. Heat spreads over Tucker’s face like wildfire, nearly intense enough to see at a glance if someone  _ really  _ tried. 

_ How the hell have I gone this fucking long without kissing him? _

Church’s hands find purchase at Tucker’s waist, pulling his hips flush to his own pelvis. By instinct, Tucker’s hands come up to hold a sharp face, thumbs against Church’s cheeks. A velvety wetness swipes over Tucker’s bottom lip, begging for permission, unlike Church’s first demand. 

Tucker slowly parts his lips, granting access with little hesitation. Church’s fingers make mindless circles against the dark skin of Tucker’s hips, rolling over to sooth the bruises he left behind. He gently backs Tucker against the wall, kissing deeper and deeper until Tucker has to pull away for air. 

“We should shower.” A forehead presses to Tucker’s, hands lazily sliding up and down Tucker’s sides. 

“You gonna fuck me in the shower?”

“You know damn well how fucking clumsy I am. One of us will break a skull.” 

“Fuck me in the morning?”  
  


Church takes a deep breath, heart rate already picking up. He leans in again, kissing soft lips.

  
  
  


“Yeah, I can do that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Church said he’s not leaving again lol we know that’s a lie 
> 
> Raise your hand if you cry over s13 bc I know I do.
> 
> I’m thinking about making a short sequel that addresses Tucker’s and Wash’s relationship but we’ll see


End file.
